


Days Like This

by Butterfly



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-20
Updated: 2006-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-26 18:26:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/286509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfly/pseuds/Butterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, Jack is down a cliff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Days Like This

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [jic](http://jic.livejournal.com/) for help with brainstorming and for beta work. Story written for Holly ([eregyrn](http://eregyrn.livejournal.com/), then orca_girl) in the [2006 Jack/Daniel Ficathon](http://greensilver.livejournal.com/319898.html).

Daniel yanked on the scraggly tree with all his weight and hoped that this one wouldn’t break. It held, so he wrapped the rope around it, and then glanced around to find somewhere in the mud to brace himself. He finally found a relatively rocky patch of ground and then looked down over the cliff edge -- Jack seemed to have given up his attempt to scale the slick surface of the rockface through sheer force of will.

Daniel tossed the rest of rope off the edge, wincing when it almost hit Jack in the face as the wind whipped it around. Jack took the rope firmly in hand, stared at it for a moment, gave it a tug strong enough that Daniel swore he felt it, and then tied it securely around his waist. He yelled something up, but the blistering rain and gusting wind stole his words.

Daniel backed away from edge, blinking cold water out of his eyes, and then he started hauling on the rope. Achingly slowly, he managed to get it moving, and he had to focus his concentration on the rope to keep from thinking about how little Jack was helping him here.

His hands slipped on the rope once, and he yelped out a curse before he managed to tighten his grip again, hoping that he hadn’t jarred Jack too badly. He let himself long for Teal’c for just a moment, then forced himself to start pulling again, ignoring the twinge in his shoulders.

By the time Jack was nearing the top, Daniel was having a hard time feeling the rope in his hands –- they ached and burned, but he just firmed his grip and pulled harder. When the rope slacked, it took him by surprise, and he stumbled slightly, going down to one knee, grimy water splashing up onto his shirt and vest.

Jack balanced on the edge, searching for a new handhold. Daniel let go of the rope and reached forward to slide his arm around Jack’s back, helping him up the last few inches. They slipped slightly in the mud, and Daniel ended up on his back with Jack on top of him, a rock digging into his ass.

Jack relaxed against Daniel, their bodies pressing together as they panted with exertion.

“The kid?” Jack asked, sounding hoarse.

“He made it to the caves,” Daniel said. The kid had made quite the dramatic entrance, too, flinging water here and there as he’d told his story. “He told us that you’d saved him, but that you were in something of a fix.”

Well, what he’d actually _said_ had been more along the lines of "down a cliff, near death, and really pissed off", but Daniel figured that Jack could guess those parts on his own.

“Oh, _that_ ,” Jack said, glancing behind them at the cliff’s edge. “That was nothing. I eat climbs like that for breakfast.”

Daniel didn’t bother to reply, just smiled to himself as he stroked his hand over Jack’s back, Jack’s warmth soaking through his wet clothes. He reached down and fumbled at the slick rope around Jack’s waist.

“Hey, hey, you’ll just make it tighter,” Jack complained as he batted away Daniel’s hands and attacked the rope himself.

Daniel raised his hands up and scooted away from Jack, grimacing as he felt the mud seeping through his pants. The rain was pelting down even harder now, water dripping over the edge of the cliff. The wind was the worst part, though. Daniel’s face felt half-numb from it and he couldn’t hear worth a damn and, on top of that, he was having a hard time closing his hands all the way.

It was starting to get even darker now, the invisible sun setting behind the dark grey storm clouds.

When he’d been back with the Akkerians, they had passed a good half-dozen shallow caves before Imi-iddina had said that they’d reached the villagers' storm-home – it hadn’t been a straight shot either. They’d trampled up and down trying to find the right path.

There wasn’t a chance in hell that Daniel was going to be able to find those caves on his own, not in the dark.

“Shit,” Daniel said, with feeling.

“What?” Jack asked, having successfully dealt with the rope.

“We need to get to shelter,” Daniel said, picking himself up off the ground and offering his hand to Jack. Jack gave him a ‘well, yes, Daniel, that was obvious’ look, but still let Daniel help him off the ground.

And that spoke volumes for how badly he felt. Daniel knew that _he_ would be feeling this mission long after they’d gone home. His ass ached from landing on the rocky ground, water had managed to soak completely through his Air Force-issued uniform, the wind was making him so cold his _teeth_ hurt, and he’d given himself a hell of a case of rope burn hauling Jack up that damn cliff. And if Daniel was chilled and sore, he'd bet that Jack had to be ten times worse.

So, they wouldn’t be able to reach the others -- they’d just have settle for one of those shallower caves and pick things up again in the morning –- because trying to find the Akkerians in the dark would be suicide.

“There’s a whole set of caves further up,” Daniel said, leaning next to Jack so that he didn’t need to yell over the storm. “I’ve still got my pack, so we should be okay for the night.”

Jack just nodded and Daniel could feel him start to shiver from the cold. Daniel wrapped an arm around Jack’s waist and, slowly, they inched their way up the rough terrain, nearly slipping more than once on the slick, rocky ground. As the sky darkened even further, Daniel pulled out his flashlight and then he started checking the mountainside for caves.

“I’m not sure that I like this planet all that much,” Jack grumbled, just loud enough that Daniel could hear him over the roar of the wind. Daniel gave Jack’s waist a light squeeze, glad that Jack wasn’t so banged up that he couldn’t complain.

He spotted a dark place in the rocks and headed for it, trying to brace Jack as much as possible. Jack had been favoring his knee earlier, and the fall couldn’t have helped any. From the way he was walking, he might even be due for another surgery when they got back to the SGC.

“I give it maybe a three on the hospitality scale,” Jack continued. “And it only gets to be that high because the natives didn’t _actively_ try to kill us, though you have to admit that that stew came close. What was _in_ that, anyway? Mushy monkey brains?”

Daniel bit down on his smile, detouring around a broken, uneven patch of ground –- he could see the hole clearly now, and it _was_ a cave, so he started hoping that it would be both empty and large enough.

“Of course, they could’ve warned us about these storms,” Jack said, apparently choosing to forget the panic that Nabonidi had shown when the heavy rain had started ‘so early’ and Sam reporting that she’d been picking up an unusual electromagnetic reaction from the area. “And who builds their village that far from their Stargate?”

They stumbled through the entrance of the cave and kept going, Daniel flashing his light around so that they wouldn’t run into any unexpected obstacles. The cave had smooth, brightly-painted crimson walls and the floor was mostly free from rocks and other debris, so it was probably used for something by the Akkerians.

The tunnel curved away and slightly upward, providing protection from the storm, and then it opened into a large, round room, clearly carved from the rock by artificial means. There were some boxes up against the far wall, and several places for torches to hang. It felt almost warm in here, cut-off from the draining cold of the wind outside.

Jack pulled away from Daniel and walked over to the boxes, limping slightly.

“Think there’s a chance that they left blankets in these?” he asked, reaching forward and slipping the lid off of one of them. After a moment, he let out a disgusted sigh and turned away. “I don’t know why I bother hoping. Daniel, pack.”

He held his hand out, impatiently, and Daniel blinked at him, confused.

“Why?” Daniel asked.

“You’re going to be a lot more interested in that box than I am,” Jack said. “So, give me your damn pack and let me get us set up.”

Daniel studied Jack for a moment and then shrugged off his gear, handing it over to Jack. Jack pulled a small flashlight from his vest and wandered off towards the other corner of the room, still muttering and favoring his leg.

Then Daniel moved forward to look inside the box, taking his glasses out of the protected case in his vest and putting them on with more than a little relief. There were definitely reasons that he preferred the drier planets.

This appeared to be something of a small records room, the opened box filled to the brim with fired clay tablets covered in the Akkerians’ modified cuneiform. Daniel brushed his fingers over a tablet, rough history rubbing against his skin. He turned his head to make out the first line, the title of the piece.

Well, Jack might be wrong about this not being his kind of thing – this particular tablet appeared to be a listing of favored weaponry and their uses. Underneath that one was one containing an inventory of the goods that were to be given to every newly joined pairing, supplied by the community as a whole, with a list of couples that had been gifted already.

“This is incredible,” Daniel said. And, hopefully, he’d be able to talk Jack into staying here for a while after the storm had blown over –- he’d love to talk to the Akkerians about the ways their everyday language had shifted over time from the original Sumerian that was still used in this formal writing here to the more casual and compact, adaptive style that they used in more informal record-keeping back at the village. The tablets in this cave were only about five years old, if they had been dated using the same time-keeping system that the Akkerians been explaining to him earlier.

There was no reason to think that they hadn't been -- the Akkerians were dedicated to accuracy and sharing knowledge, perhaps even more than their original ancestors had been, after their Goa'uld captors had tried to strip them of their knowledge and culture.

Daniel hadn't been able to find out just how the Akkerians had managed to break free from the Goa'uld, which had been frustrating Jack all to hell before the storm had hit. The answer might be in these tablets, or they might consist entirely of records too old to be considered needed in the village itself.

He glanced over at Jack, who was setting out the sleeping gear. Jack hadn’t been wearing his pack when Daniel had managed to haul him up over the side and, despite his excitement over the records, Daniel found himself wishing that the box _had_ contained the blankets Jack had been hoping for.

Daniel carefully placed the tablets back on top of the others, studying Jack and the deliberate and slow way he was moving, most of his weight on one side.

“I’m an idiot,” he announced, moving over towards Jack.

“You won’t get any arguments from me,” Jack said, glaring down at the pile of fabric. “You’re the most obtuse genius that I’ve ever met. Well, there _are_ days when you and Carter tie.”

“Speaking of Sam, I was thinking of trying the radio again,” Daniel said, ignoring Jack's complaints and reaching down to even out the sleeping bag. He put the flashlight on the ground and then slowly lowered himself down, holding back a groan as his muscles protested the action.

“Won’t work,” Jack said, dropping down next to Daniel, not bothering to hide a wince. “Too much electrical activity, remember?” Daniel glanced over at Jack, grinning slightly. Jack just shrugged, and then rolled his shoulders back, with a grimace.

Daniel tried anyway, but got nothing but static, just like he’d been expecting. Then he looked over at Jack again, who was still working his shoulders.

“Hey, come here,” Daniel said softly, reaching out to touch Jack’s back.

“Rule number one,” Jack said, not shifting.

“Jack, you’re almost frozen and covered in mud. Believe me when I say that sex is the _last_ thing on my mind,” Daniel said, rolling his eyes. “Now, get your ass over here and let me give you a backrub before you cramp up.”

Jack gave him a suspicious look, and then shifted around, shedding his vest and dropping it on the ground. Daniel moved forward slightly, stroking his hand up through Jack’s hair, still damp, but starting to dry. Jack relaxed back into his touch, apparently deciding that he could trust Daniel.

He guessed that he couldn’t really blame Jack for jumping to conclusions – most of their off-base recreation time recently had either been with the rest of the team or off having sex on their own. They hadn’t been doing a lot of casual hanging out, not just the two of them.

Daniel rubbed Jack’s neck, the short hairs there brushing against his palm, and he wondered when they’d stopped doing that, the casual friendship crap. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone over to Jack’s and been forced to drink some bad domestic beer and watch hockey or some other mindless sport.

He shuffled closer to Jack, rubbing Jack’s shoulders, pressing down to find the knotted muscles and focus on them. Jack let out a soft sigh, his head falling forward slightly. His grey hair shimmered slightly silver as it was caught in the beam of the flashlight.

“This would be easier if you were lying down,” Daniel said, stroking his thumbs across a particularly nasty knot.

“If I lie down and you keep doing that, I’ll end up falling asleep,” Jack said, softly, reaching back to touch Daniel’s knee.

“I can keep watch,” Daniel said. “I’m not tired.”

Not anywhere near as tired as Jack, at least, and that was what mattered.

For a moment, it didn’t seem like Jack was going to be willing to bend, but then he let out a quiet breath and nodded, slipping off his boots. Daniel scooted off the sleeping bag and opened it up for Jack, who slipped in to lie on his stomach.

Daniel started at the shoulders again, bending over Jack to get the best angle, knowing that Jack really was exhausted when he didn’t crack any sharp remarks about Daniel being on top.

“Hey, Jack, what teams are playing now?” Daniel asked, the muted sound of the rain hitting the rocks outside making the storm seem distant and harmless.

“San Antonio’s up against the Lakers this weekend,” Jack said, sounding slightly puzzled. “Duncan’s really been doing great things with them.”

“Manager?” Daniel asked, moving down to Jack’s back. Jack snorted in disgust.

“ _Player_. Tim Duncan, drafted out of college last year, showed his stuff right away,” Jack said, shifting under Daniel's hands. “Haven’t you picked up on anything that I told you?”

“Apparently not,” Daniel said. “Were you planning on catching the game?”

“Yeah, I was going to call a few people, pick up some beer, have a thing,” Jack said. “After this mission, I’ll need the relaxation.”

“Maybe I’ll join you,” Daniel said.

“You don’t like basketball,” Jack said, flatly. “Or hockey or baseball. You don’t even like curling, for crying out loud.”

Daniel just shrugged, kept kneading Jack’s muscles, not really sure how to explain. He’d never gotten into sports on the level that Jack enjoyed them, but now that he and Jack weren’t watching any games together, he found that, perversely, he missed them. Missed forcing Jack to tell him what teams were playing, forty minutes into the game. Missed throwing out complex theories about homosocialization that made Jack roll his eyes and mutter ‘geek’ under his breath. He even missed Jack’s lame jokes about how Daniel couldn’t hold his beer.

Mostly, he missed watching Jack during the games – the way that he tensed when ‘his’ team was losing, the way he yelled pointers at the screen, and his thrilled or annoyed reactions as the game ended.

“I think that I’d like to watch the game,” Daniel said, finally.

Jack didn’t say anything, and after a moment, Daniel realized that he’d fallen asleep, as promised. He reached up and stroked through Jack’s hair, nearly dry now, and then backed away, flipping the cover of the sleeping bag over Jack and zipping it up.

Absently, he stood up and stretched slightly, wincing as his back popped. He picked the flashlight back up and wandered over to the box of tablets, wondering how many he could get through before morning.

Daniel glanced over at Jack one last time, contentment washing through him, and then he looked down and started to read.

 _~end~_

**Author's Note:**

> Requirements: smart/competent!Jack, as damsel in distress; well-rounded (physically competent/assertive as well as brainy) Daniel  
> Optional Requests: a/a is a plus; S3-onwards but not S6 (any other time fine)  
> Restrictions: not jokey or played for humor; peril, h/c, concern great, intensity/violence okay, but no heavy angst/major char. death, please


End file.
